


As You Wish

by RZZMG



Series: Rare Pairs [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:49:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3556655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RZZMG/pseuds/RZZMG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's true that anonymity lends itself to bravery... and lots and lots of kissing. Hermione Granger discovers this truth on Halloween night after leaving the annual Hogwarts Samhain Ball and venturing down into the dungeons, finding an old storage room she hadn't known existed. The mystery wizard she meets there in the pitch-black makes her feel things she'd never thought possible. But secret, one-off liaisons with an unknown partner aren't supposed to lead to wanting more – not for either party. If only Hermione could get her heart to agree!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anonymous In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This story was my entry to the 2011 SAMHAIN SMUT FEST CHALLENGE. I went with this prompt:
> 
> MY PROMPT: #45: Anonymous sex during a Halloween ball.  
> Suggested Character/Pairing(s): Any.  
> Suggested Kink(s): Anonymous sex.
> 
> TIMELINE: Hogwarts 7th Year – Alternate Universe (Voldemort never existed. Our cast of characters, therefore, experienced the typical teenage angst that occurs in high school. No wars, no Death Eaters, no 'Boy-Who-Lived' – just plain old Harry Potter, half-blood. A healthy House rivalry still exists, though.). Characters are OOC (out-of-character) because of the plot.
> 
> I've always wanted to use the phrase, "as you wish" in one of my stories, as I adored it when Wesley said it in "The Princess Bride" movie. I've finally found my excuse!
> 
> This one is dedicated to all those who PM'd me over the last several years with a request for a Theodore Nott x Hermione Granger fic. This one has been a long time in the queue, and so I hope you enjoy it!

 

 

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland** _

_**Friday night, October 31, 1997** _

 

Hot, expert hands slipped loose the black ribbon that held Hermione's Halloween costume's halter-bodice together in the center of her chest, untying it with ease. Nimble fingers made short work of unlacing the binding from each eyelet, until at last the ribbon fell free and her unbound breasts were exposed to the cool air and cupped by her would-be lover with gentle reverence. She gasped at the exquisite sensation of her nipples simultaneously being rolled and pinched, and arched her back in a silent plea for more.

_This is madness. You need to stop this now before it goes too far!_

Now there was some sage advice from her conscience. She'd be foolish not to listen.

As if sensing her hesitation and withdrawal, her partner quickly bent his head and engulfed one breast in his warm, moist mouth, suckling with gentle pressure.

"Oh, my God!" she moaned, her mouth dropping open from the incredible pleasure. "YES!"

Hermione pushed the mute button on any protest her inner voice made after that.

There was no choice then but to call it official: she'd passed from the safety net of sound rationality into the realm of the certifiably insane. Because clearly she couldn't blame this illicit rendezvous on the alcohol; she'd consumed just a few wee nips of Seamus' contraband Firewhisky and that had been more than an hour ago (completely at Harry's insistence, too, and that only after she'd seen Ron snogging out with his newest girlfriend on the dance floor at the Samhain Ball and nearly pitched a fit at his lack of tact). Nope, there was no way in Hades that snogging out with an anonymous male student in a pitch-black, empty storage closet on what felt to be an old sofa instead of being up in the Great Hall fulfilling her Head Girl duties and helping the staff with student conduct issues could be written off as inebriation. So, there was only one logical explanation: she'd lost her fecking mind.

In her defense, she blamed it all on Ron. If her long-time crush had not asked Luna Lovegood earlier this afternoon to be his steady girlfriend and to go to the Samhain Ball tonight on his arm, she wouldn't have even considered drinking or engaging in something this reckless and foolhardy. The man was an utter idiot, passing her up, as she would have done whatever it took to make all his fantasies come true.

Well, it was all water under the bridge now. Regardless of the reason, she'd decided that she was through trying to catch Ron's attention. Her feelings had been slowly waning for him since this past summer when, on a trip with her and Harry into Muggle London, he'd made a sexist comment about a woman passing by him on the street. It was then that Hermione had begun to realize that he might never see her as anything but a friend. Now, she was certain of it. It was time to move on and to stop living the childish fantasy of being a virgin for him on their wedding night. That wasn't going to happen now as she was done with Captain Oblivious for good.

Besides, she was a woman, she was attractive and smart and powerful, and there was a man right here who thought so, too. Maybe she'd just try out this thing called 'sex' with someone anonymous (so her reputation wouldn't suffer for this later) and see how it felt. After all, she was sure the man currently kissing her didn't know who she was, and she certainly couldn't guess his identity, as they'd accidentally met in this storage room when she'd stumbled in, curious as to what lay behind this usually closed and locked door. He'd already been in here doing Merlin-knew-what. It had been a happenstance meeting, so why not take advantage of the situation to have a little fun?

Her unknown wizard slid the soft leather skirt of her female Zorro costume up and over her hips and caressed her over her knickers, even as his mouth continued to worship her breasts, taking them each in turn. He seemed oddly relaxed, not rushing to get her undressed with fumbling, nervous fingers as she'd expect a boy their age to do - which told her he was already sexually experienced. All the better.

His palms smoothed over her bare, rounded thighs, sliding down to her knees to tenderly stroke against the back of both knees. She giggled and jerked in automatic reflex.

"Ticklish, hmmm?" he murmured, his voice so soft and low she couldn't pin its owner.

"A little," she whispered.

He bit her tit with surprising tenderness, using the tip of his tongue to tease it even as he pulled it away from her body. On the cusp of the pleasure turning to pain, he let go. "I'll remember that."

"Do," she breathily replied as he leaned towards her other breast and repeated the action.

His playful sins became progressively more serious as he licked down her exposed midriff towards her bellybutton. Rimming the little dip was an excellent distraction for when he hooked his thumbs into the sides of her knickers and slowly began drawing them down. His head followed the path his body took, until his nose pressed against the top of her mons. Slipping her panties off her ankles, he encouraged her to spread her legs wide by lifting them under her knees and applying gentle pressure to them.

Pressing her head back into the lumpy cushion of the old couch, Hermione's heart sped up with a growing anxiety, but she counted to ten and tried to relax. She didn't want to appear unsophisticated and perhaps turn him off. Some guys were weird like that, or so she'd overheard Lavender Brown explain it to Parvati and Padma Patil once.

He inhaled deeply, nuzzling her curls and clit with the tip of his nose. His hum of approval buzzed against her damp, fleshy petals even as his tongue flicked out to lash at her tiny nub. She let out an, "Oh!" at the unfamiliar, exciting sensation and again, her lower muscles twitched. He duplicated his efforts several times, drawing from her all sort of animal noises she'd never thought herself capable of making. Her nails kneaded into the ratty fabric of the sofa, the scratching loud in the small room.

When he laved one long path from bottom to top, bathing her with his saliva, Hermione's chest hitched with a sob. "Yes, that's… I've never… Oh, God!" She began babbling a litany of praise for his talent and pleas for him not to stop as his tongue circled the little, engorged pearl, delighting in occasionally sucking it between his lips for a kiss. When he used that pink lash to taste inside her untouched canal, he paused.

"What is it?  _What?_ " she demanded, her panting breath blasting from her lungs. She'd been on a steep, hurried ascent towards orgasm and he'd broken off! Why had he stopped?

One of his hands shifted off her knee and a moment later, she felt it thrust into her, sinking in as far as it could go.

"Oh, sweet Circe!" she cried out, her head forced by the pleasure into craning back as far as it could, until her chin was pointed towards the ceiling. Her hands had dug into the couch with enough force to tear small holes in the well-worn fabric. She thrust her pelvis up, silently begging him to move his hand in and out of her.

Her phantom partner, however, had frozen in place. "Don't move," he growled, using his other hand to push down on her belly, trying to get her to lower her hips, even as he began slowly withdrawing from within her.

"No, don't!" she begged, reaching for him and grabbing his wrist as he fully withdrew his fingers. "I like it. Don't you?"

From the darkness, there came a round of grumbled swearing between clenched teeth. "Of course I like it," he murmured, sounding rather angry. "But you're obviously a virgin and losing it here, like this? It's not right. You should save it for someone important – someone you actually care for."

It took her two full blinks to process that. "If I didn't want to do this, don't you think I would have walked out already?"

He sighed with exasperation. "You don't even know who I am."

"So?" she challenged. "The mystery is what makes this whole idea sexy. Think about it: we don't know each other's identities, so we can enjoy the moment without worrying about House issues, or what our friends will think. We can be completely free to experiment and you can teach me all about how good sex can be. I won't have regrets, because it will be mutually satisfying – your obvious skill will assure it. Also, there will be no hurt feelings in the end to ruin it for either of us, so long as we agree to treat each other well." Her grip on his hand loosened a bit, and she slid her palm into his, turning them until their fingers entwined in a tender clasp. "This can be our wonderful secret, yours and mine - one unforgettable memory from our youth that only the two of us will ever share. We'll always be able to look back on this night with fondness. That sounds just perfect to me."

Her companion was silent for a long while, and Hermione worried that he might actually walk out in disgust. She held her breath, taming her impatient nature to await his decision.

"You're sure?"

She exhaled. "Yes, I am."

Still, he hesitated. "It's going to hurt the first time. I can't do anything to prevent that. And you'll most likely bleed."

Quivering with anticipation, she realized her nod wouldn't be seen in the darkness of the room. "I have my wand. I can clean-up after."

His sigh this time was of resignation. "Are you on anything? Pill, potion?"

"I know the Contraceptive and Disease Charm," she answered, and finding her wand in the crack of the sofa, placed it over her belly, reciting the incantation she'd learned from a book on sexual health for such an occasion. The small flash of pink that enveloped her was too quick to see each other by, and it faded fast, leaving spots in front of her eyes. "There. We're good for eight hours."

There was another pregnant pause, and then her unknown beau chuckled. It was a wicked sound that made her shiver. "Eight hours, huh? You really think this will take that long?"

Tugging on his hand, she pulled him towards her at the same time as moving her face slightly forward. Reaching out with her other hand, she found his throat, and smoothed upwards to touch his cheek. The fringe of his soft bangs tickled her fingers. "I did say I wanted it to be a  _perfect_ memory."

She felt his head nod once and knew she'd won his agreement. "So you did."


	2. Unforgettable Night

To Hermione's surprise, her unidentified companion started with a reverent kiss. She melted into it. It only lasted a few seconds, though, before he pulled back.

"I'll treat what we do here with respect," he stated, pulling back a bit to talk to her. "I want you to be comfortable and enjoy this. It'll make it better for both of us that way. So, if you have questions about anything we're doing, I'll pause and explain it to you. If you don't want to continue after that, you speak up and let me know. I'll stop if you tell me to," he assured her. "But to give you fair warning: if you don't tell me to stop, I'll take that as your full consent. Agreed?"

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and nodded once. "Agreed. Just… go slow. Make it good for us both."

He let his nose travel over her jaw and up to her ear, where he trailed the whorl of her ear with his tongue. "Oh, I will. You're going to come so many times for me, my sweet, sweet girl. Promise." Moving down to the pulse in her neck, he bit down and sucked, and she knew he was leaving a love bruise she'd have to glamour away later.

Grabbing hold of his shoulders, she tilted her head to give him full access. "Yes, make tonight so good that I'll never forget you!"

Releasing his lock on her throat, he trailed back up to hover over her lips. "As you wish."

Their mouths met in an explosion of desire, and he pushed her over, until her back met the cushions again. Her brain fuzzed, and there was nothing left but pure feeling and the enticing scent of him after that; some sort of spicy men's cologne and clove ciggies intermingled to overtake her senses.

After removing all of their clothing, her mystery lover delivered exactly as promised, taking all eight hours of their time to bring her wave after wave of unending ecstasy.

First, he taught her how to stroke his penis and how to roll his tight sac underneath so as to bring him pleasure. They took their time acclimating her to the feel of a man, and how to know where and when to apply pressure, building up her confidence in the doing. When he felt she was ready, he guided her mouth over his length, moving very slowly until she felt comfortable experimenting with various licking-nibbling-sucking techniques without his input. To her delight, she eventually made him lose control and tasted his semen across her tongue. He petted her hair and face the whole time, whispering words of encouragement and uninhibitedly expressing his rapture at climax.

Returning the favor, he dropped between her legs and fingered and tongued her until she too fell over the edge into fire and bliss. It was a beautiful bringing, with her legs brazenly spread wide, and her fingers running through his silky hair, fisting it. She'd arched her back off the couch as she rode the sparkling, incandescent wave of sensation.

Even as she recovered from her first true orgasm, he asked her if she was ready to make love, laying her horizontal on the sofa and tucking the generous crest of his considerably-sized cock against her opening. When she murmured for him to make her his own, he groaned and entered her, parting her body and ending her innocence with a surge of lust. It hurt, but the sting quickly faded as he began to move, until there was no more pain - only his body and hers, entwined and connected in the most intimate of dances. He murmured his pleasure throughout, letting her know how amazing she felt around him and how she tested his control. And yet, not once did he neglect her needs for his own, remaining conscientious of her comfort and satisfaction by slowing when she asked and speeding up when she demanded. He enticed her participation by lapping at her throat, suckling her nipples, and kissing her lips. He encouraged her to let go and be totally free in her responses.

Hermione felt consumed by the intensity of the emotions her unknown lover roused in her; it felt as if he was everywhere around and in her, until she was saturated by his scent and heat, and there was only the rhythm of his driving hips to anchor her to this world. When she eventually climaxed in another euphoric bringing, her inner muscles rippled and rolled over his steely length, milking him, drawing him deeper into her body. He lost all control then, coming along with her, his seed filling her up and completing her.

In the afters, his mouth stole away the last, stubborn remnants of her natural reserve as he kissed her and praised her performance. "So good," he murmured around teasing licks, his shaft going soft within her soaked channel. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you, my sweet girl? You were amazing. That was the best sex I've ever had. It was…  _God_ , it was unforgettable! Just like you said it would be."

Lying limp and sated in his strong arms, Hermione answered each of his concerns about her comfort in a tired voice, enjoying the shower of his affection. Truthfully, her mind was reeling over the magnificent experience she'd just had. Her lover had proven to be skilled and incredibly considerate, and Hermione felt so thankful for such a blessing for her first time. This would truly be an unforgettable memory that she'd cherish for the rest of her life.

Sliding behind and turning her at the same time, he spooned them for a cuddle and a rest, his own exhaustion obviously having caught up. Eventually, the sound of his even breathing lulled her into sleep, too.

He awoke her sometime later with a small thrust of his hips, reentering her sore vagina and stretching it wide, taking her again while she lay on her side. With cajoling, naughty words he compelled her to come for him again and rubbed her clit just the way she liked, in no time at all sending her reeling into a third release. Immediately thereafter, he flipped them so she lay on her belly, and he came up behind her, pulling out, still impossibly erect as he stroked his substantial length between her bum cheeks. His magic tingled on the air as he used his wand for a purpose she didn't understand – until she felt something warm and liquid fill her back channel, and knew it had to be some kind of lubricant.

She had a moment of anxiety, and he asked her if she wanted to try this, too, feeling her tense up. Forcibly reminding her body and mind that she could trust him and to relax – he'd proven his worth with his tender handling of her thus far – she agreed to try what he had in mind. This was, after all, a chance for her to experiment and learn without repercussion.

He carefully prepared her with his fingers – first one, then two, then three. When she was once more squirming under him and begging him to come into her, he took her with cautious, small thrusts until he was fully embedded in her to the hilt. It hurt almost as bad as losing her hymen had, but like before, after a bit of adjustment and being properly opened up, the experience unfolded into something startlingly wonderful. She touched her clit as he bade, and was soon enjoying him driving into her with wild abandon. They came together in an intermingled cry, and she felt his seed fill her up in a way that was different, and at the same time, equally as satisfying as the other two times.

When he withdrew, she was a quivering mass of rushing endorphins, boneless and fulfilled. This night had been everything she'd ever wanted…

…and yet, her heart trembled with the knowledge that she'd never know her shadowy lover – not his identity and not his touch, not ever again. It had been her idea, yes, but the thought now saddened her in ways she hadn't expected, and before she could gain control of her rioting emotions, she broke into tears.

Mortified by her outburst, she hurriedly tried to oppress it with a hand over her mouth, but she knew he'd heard.

"What's wrong?" he asked after using his wand to cast a  _Scourgify_  upon them both, sliding next to her on the wide sofa to take up his previously occupied spot against the back cushions, turning her so she lay with her face pressed into his chest. He soothed over her sweaty, naked spine with tender touches. "Didn't you like it? Or did I hurt you? I'm so sorry if I did."

Oh, Godric! What could she say? She'd been the one to set the rules for tonight, and yet here she was, wishing she'd never agreed to anonymity. "I… no, it was wonderful," she settled, throwing an arm around him. "You didn't hurt me. I'm just… it shook me up, is all. I didn't expect…"

"To want more?" he finished when she lamely stalled. He sighed into her hair and kissed her temple. "Me, either, honestly. I thought I could give you what you wanted and let you go, like you asked. But I'm finding the idea sucks, and I don't like it. I want to know who you are. I want to do this with you again, in the light, so I can look at you when we make love."

His beautiful words hurt even as they resonated with her thoughts. "I know I said… but… I want the same." She tilted her head back and kissed the bottom of his chin. "I want to know you."

He went still against her, like he had at the start of all of this, and she could feel him seriously considering the situation. "My wand is on the floor. I could reach down. Cast a quick  _Lumos_ ," he offered. "It could be that easy."

Somehow, she'd known he'd make the offer - just as she knew she was going to reject it.

"What if we're from rival Houses or blood prejudice is an issue between us? It isn't on my side, but is it on yours? Would you still want to be with me if you found out I wasn't someone you normally liked, or if I was someone your friends or parents wouldn't approve of?" she dared to ask. "What if it's worse and we're actually rivals of some kind? I'll take on most things, but I'm not  _that_  brave. I don't think I could bear to see loathing on your face – not after what we've done." She silenced her sorrow, wiped at her cheeks to erase the tear tracks and shook her head. "No, this is better. It hurts, but… I'll someday get over this. I'm not sure I could if I knew you hated me, though. It would forever taint this whole night."

He was quiet a lot longer this time, and then he sighed. "As you wish." He held her tighter, his hands slipping down over her naked bum and caressing. Against her thigh, she felt his erection stir, grow hard. In a quick roll, she was on her back and he was over her once more. "But, if you're going to insist on this being goodbye, my sweet girl, then I want you one more time." His cock head nudged at her entrance, but he waited for her consent.

Spreading her knees so he'd drop into the cradle of her thighs, she pressed her nails into his arms once again and tilted her hips so he could glide right in. "Do it," she again urged. "Give it to me deep and don't hold back. Give me all of you."

He obeyed and it was the most magnificent feeling in the whole world when they came together many minutes later, their lips locked and mated as tight as their hips were, their simultaneous moans filling the others' mouth. She wept from the surge of emotion that welled up through her chest and out into him.

This had not been 'just sex,' no matter how she'd tried to paint it. Something more profound had taken root between them tonight, and that emotion had the potential to blossom. Sadly, she knew it would never be actualized, however. That fact came home to her as they finally separated and moved to redress, apologizing each time they groped or bumped into each other in the darkness. By the time she had her clothing restored, her wand in hand and her shoes on her feet, she could feel that they were going back to being strangers.

"I guess I'll go first," she forlornly offered. "Could you, please, close your eyes and promise not to peek?"

Her mystery lover sighed, and it was a frustrated hiss of air. "This is stupid. You realize I'm going to try to find you, right?"

"Don't," she pleaded. "We agreed."

He reached out and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. He placed a kiss into the palm and then turned his cheek so that he was rubbing against it. "I know what you feel like, and what you smell and taste like. I'm never going to be able to stop looking for you, no matter what you say. I've never felt this connection with any girl before, and I don't want it to end."

She tugged her hand away, her knees quaking and her resolve weakening. "Please don't do this." Tears burned her eyes. "You'll hurt me… hurt us both, I think."

He reached for her again, wrapping his arms about her. His mouth brushed the shell of her ear. "What if I said I didn't care who you were, and that I'd be willing to go against everyone I know for you? Even if you're a Muggle-born, I'll accept it. I'll make everyone accept us."

Sobbing now, she tried to pry his arms from her, having guessed from his few words that he was a pureblood, and most likely, a Slytherin. There were one or two Ravenclaws who had openly expressed their prejudicial views on blood purity over the years, but mainly, Slytherins were the ones who were vocal over the issue that Muggle-borns didn't belong in their world.

Oh, Merlin! What if this was Malfoy, or one of his friends? Founders help her, but she couldn't risk revealing her identity now, no matter how much she wanted to! Her reputation would be shredded if word ever got out of what she'd done here tonight. Worse, if the staff got wind of it, she could lose her Head Girl status, as it was against the rules to engage in sexual relations on campus.

This whole idea had been a horrible mistake for so many reasons! How foolish could she have been? In wanting to get even with Ron, she'd damned herself in so many ways – in her academic and social standing, and in matters of the heart.

"Please…" she whispered around a choked voice and another hot spill of tears. "Let me go."

His exhalations were short, staccato pants, as if he were pained by her decision. He swallowed several times and it was loud against her ear. "As you wish. I'll never forget you, though, my sweet girl," he whispered, kissing her cheek and opening his arms. "Go now, before I change my mind."

She rushed to the door, with its very thin crack of light at the bottom guiding her steps. Before she pulled it open, she stopped and turned, a part of her still wishing she could see him. "I'll never forget you either," she vowed. "Thank you for the best night of my life and for making my first time so beautiful. It truly was unforgettable and perfect."

With that, she yanked open the door and fled home to Gryffindor's tower, ignoring the fact that the Samhain Ball had long-ago ended and that the Great Hall was closed up for the night. She disregarded the surprised looks of the few roaming ghosts and conscious portraits in the open Grand Staircase, as she rushed past, openly crying. Thankfully, none of her Housemates were in her common room when she pushed through the portrait, and she hurried through the twisting labyrinth of the women's dormitories to her room without being accosted. When she arrived there, she was surprised to find that none of her roommates were in; obviously they were warming other beds tonight. With a quick thanks to Godric, she hastily disrobed, threw on some pyjamas and hopped into bed, closing the curtains with a wave of her wand.

The dawn peeked through the room's sole window before sleep at last claimed her, her tears finally giving way to exhaustion.


	3. Revelations of the Heart

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland** _

_**Friday night, November 28, 1997** _

 

Hermione had never been more depressed in her whole life.

For four weeks, she'd thrown herself full-tilt into her studies, working like the devil to drive the pain of her first true heartbreak from her chest, to no avail. Every time she so much as closed her eyes, she heard  _his_  voice in her ear, or had a flash memory of how she had felt being initiated into adulthood by her nameless, faceless lover. His touches, his scent, his taste, his words – calling her "my sweet girl" as he thrust away inside of her - all of it haunted her until she felt run-down and her health began to suffer for it.

Harry noticed, of course. He always  _saw_ , even when a person didn't want him to. It was one of his more annoying talents.

"Who is he?" he asked, cornering her that evening in the library, speaking in low tones so as not to upset Madam Pince. He'd learned his lesson years ago, when the stern, short-tempered matron had taken him by the ear, dragged him out in front of everyone, and tossed him out on his bum for speaking in a raised voice: you  _never_ upset a librarian without consequences.

Hermione stopped scribbling with her quill, but didn't look up. She was afraid he'd see too much in her face. "I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about," she feigned ignorance.

Her quill was taken from her fingers with a quick flick of his wrist and tossed across to the far side of the wide table. "The person who's got you running yourself to ground in an attempt to avoid him or her." He perched his backside on the table, crossed his arms and stared down at her. "Give me a name, Hermione, and I'll make that person stop harassing you. Is it Malfoy again? Parkinson or Bulstrode? Zabini? Just give me a name."

She clenched her jaw. "No one is harassing me, Harry, except you. Now, if you do not mind…"

"Actually, I do," he countered, setting his stubborn streak against hers. "I mind it when I see my best friend hardly sleeping, not eating, nearly fainting in class, and cowering away in the library when her usual routine at this hour of the day would be to be in our common room, hanging out and relaxing with the rest of her friends. You've been acting odd since Halloween, and I know you disappeared that night from the Great Hall. No one knew where you went. Something happened that night didn't it? Did someone hurt you?"

Now her ire was up. "I am not cowering!" she hissed, ignoring the rest of his accusation, trying to keep her voice low. "I am studying! N.E.W.T.s are coming up-"

"In five and a half months, 'Mione," he countered. "And you're already well ahead in every subject. You could pass them all tomorrow with O's. This" - he waved at the stack of books next to her and the rolls of parchment she'd already completed – "is unnecessary work, and you know it. It's keeping you busy so you can either run from or forget something. So, spill it."

She straightened her spine, sitting tall in her chair. "I am not running from-"

"Can it," he cut her off with a slashing motion. "After seven years, I know your tells. When you lie, you get defensive, you don't look me in the eye, you repeat the accusation made against you, and you speak without contractions – 'I am,' 'do not'."

"I do not-" she began, but realized Harry had just accurately called her out. Still, she didn't have any intention of telling him this most private secret, as she'd promised her unidentified companion that night that what happened between them would not be repeated. She abruptly switched tactics, knowing he wouldn't leave this one alone until she made it clear she didn't want his help or advice. "Harry, I appreciate your concern, really, but this is one issue I need to resolve on my own." She pressed a hand to her heart. "It's something only time can make better."

She risked a glance up through her lashes to see the light of understanding entering his eyes. "Ron's an idiot."

He mistakenly thought she was still pining for their friend. Well, she supposed that was better than the truth, so she encouraged it. "When is he not?"

Harry put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Your health is more important. Sleep more, eat, and don't work so bloody hard. And, you know, if you need a shoulder to cry on…" He left the rest unspoken, as there was no need to finish it between friends as close as they were. Harry was the brother she'd always wanted, and they understood each other in many ways that didn't need verbal expression. A furtive look, a shrug or a smirk usually was enough to convey chapters of information.

It was for that reason that Hermione felt horrid lying to him, but a promise was a promise. So far, her unknown lover had kept his end of the bargain, as far as she could tell. There had been no backlash upon her - no rumors buzzing about her loss of chastity, and no suggestive looks thrown at her from any of the eyes she met as she passed by to indicate they felt any different about her. She'd honor the bargain as well. "Thanks. I'll take better care."

"Pinky swear?" he asked, holding out his pinky as the Muggle superstition required.

She raised her own and locked onto his, and they shook up and down on it, striking the bargain. "I pinky swear."

He tossed her a grin and unhooked his finger from hers. "Right, then see you back at the common room before curfew."

She nodded and he walked off with a wave over his shoulder.

With a sigh, she stood up and walked around the table to grab her quill where Harry had thrown it. Honestly, was she that obvious? She'd have to learn to school her features better if she wanted to get through this.

Just as she reached out and touched the feather, there was movement from her peripheral vision. She glanced up to find the bane of her Hogwarts academic career, Theodore Nott, lounging against a bookshelf. His arms were crossed, giving him an air of lazy disinterest, but the narrowed, assessing gaze he threw her spoke of a desire to pick a fight.

It was funny that of all the people in school she'd expect to have a hot rivalry with, it wasn't Malfoy, who tended to save his nastiest behavior for Ron and Harry. It wasn't Zabini, either, who liked to sneer down his nose at her, or Bulstrode, who'd blocked doorways with her massive girth in a passive-aggressive attack, or even Parkinson, who loved to poke fun at her on occasion in a very shrill, loud voice. No, it was Nott, number two student in their year.

The contention between them wasn't overtly antagonistic or cruel; the boy didn't say much, in general, and he'd never been impolite to her as far as she could recall. Instead, it was in the way he silently challenged her at every subject, attempting to best her scores at every turn. In many classes over the years, he'd earned as much praise from the professors as she did, and he'd scored one more "Outstanding" grade in his O.W.L.s than her (the one she'd coveted for Defence Against the Dark Arts, having earned only an "Exceeds Expectations" on that one test). Because he'd passed on the Head Boy appointment this year, allowing the number three student in their grade, Ernie Macmillan, to take the slot, Nott now had more time to study. If only she'd been so wise! He recently seemed to be pulling ahead in the tally as a result, and Hermione now had to work extra hard just to keep hold of her first chair. The added stress  _that_  was causing, on top of her other personal problems, was the reason for her lack of sleep and declining health.

Maybe Harry was right. She should call it a night and go back to the Tower for a little socializing with friends. One night wouldn't hurt and it might even help to get her out of her funk.

Grabbing her quill, she turned her back on the Salutatorian, and started gathering up her belongings to leave. Deciding which books she'd borrow for the weekend, she placed those into her satchel. The others, she carried to the cart at the end of the aisle for restacking.

"Potter's right: you look terrible."

Turning her head, she gave Nott a frown. "What's it to you?" she challenged.

His eyes roamed her from head to toe, making her uncomfortable. "Wouldn't be right to trounce you in Potions Lab on Monday if you don't get enough rest this weekend," he drawled.

She lifted her satchel onto her shoulder, found it to be extremely heavy and spent a few precious seconds adjusting the weight. "Fun though dream land is, don't you think you should come back to reality now, Mr. Nott?" she sniffed in disdain and moved in a wide circle around him, headed down the aisle towards the exit. Nodding to Madam Pince on the way out, she ambled towards the Grand Staircase.

Theodore was at her side a moment later, his long-legged stride easily catching up. "Admit it, you like the competition. Who's left if I'm not here, dogging your heels – Macmillan?" He snorted. "The guy's a twink with half my smarts, and you know it."

She shook her head, amazed at his audacity. "I think you've been hanging out with Malfoy a little too much, Nott. Careful, his arrogance is terminal."

He kept at her side all the way up to the seventh floor, egging her on with comments about how he was the only person in school who could match her brain cell for brain cell. It occurred to her as she neared The Fat Lady's portrait that he seemed to be implying that they were good together. The idea struck her as…

"Weird," she hummed in thought.

"What is?" he asked.

At the entrance to her common area, she stopped and looked up at him. "Why do you care one way or the other whether I get enough sleep, or eat enough, or how well I perform in class? And why have you followed me up here?"

Their gazes met and there was a glimmer of something heated in his. Before she could protest, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her after him down the hall and around the corner into a small, shadowy alcove. "What do you think you're doing?" she indignantly demanded, trying to yank her arm away, but his grasp was unyielding. "Let me go or I'll hex you to bits!"

"As you wish."

They stopped, and he dropped his hold on her, and Hermione felt a trickle of fear at his words.

"What did you say?" she asked in a stunned whisper.

He turned on her and in a quick rush, had her backpedaling until she was flush against the dead-end of the narrow recess, her satchel fallen to the floor in the ensuing attempt to flee. Arms caging her in on either side, he leaned down to her eye level and smirked with triumph.

"Told you that I'd find you, my sweet girl."

Oh, God.

Oh, GOD. 

_OH, GOD!_

Her mysterious lover had been Theodore Nott!


	4. Be Mine For Always

Panicked, Hermione tried to dodge under Theodore's arm, but he caught her and turned her to face the wall, pressing in behind, using his body as a barrier against her escape.

"Your talk with Potter was enlightening, especially the part about you dodging your friends at the Samhain Ball," he taunted, lowering his nose to her neck. "But it's your perfume that really gave you away – a light floral that's distinct." He inhaled and gave a deep sigh of pleasure. "God, I've missed this scent! All month, I've been trying to find it again, sniffing around every witch in school like some kind of perv-o lecher. It took standing close to you tonight to recognize it." He kissed her pulse. "I know you were the one, Granger – in that dark storage room in the dungeon on Halloween night. We made love on the old couch in there. I took your virginity. It was _definitely_  an unforgettable experience."

Frightened, she shook her head, hoping to throw him off her trail, but he gripped her shoulders in a tight hold and brought his lips to her ear. "Don't you dare deny it! I  _know_  it was you. Your height, the curls of your hair" – he brought some forward for them both to see – "and how soft your skin is" – he ran his fingertips down the front of her throat – "I'll never forget any of that. I can't."

Her body quaked uncontrollably as he once again shattered her sanity to pieces. "You promised not to look for me. Why would you?"

He nuzzled her throat and snickered. "I'm Slytherin," he purred, placing small kisses to her flushed skin. "I lied. As for why, do you really need to ask?" His free hand reached between them to slip under her jumper, un-tuck her shirt and press against her belly. He rubbed in soothing circles over her abdomen, obviously trying to calm her. "Four weeks, and I couldn't stop thinking of you. I  _needed_  to know who you were. It drove me mad not knowing. That it's you, Granger," he paused, smiling against her pulse, "is perfect. You've been under my skin since the first time we met, and now you're in my blood, too."

She tried to remain unaffected by his touch, but only this much and her mind took her back to that night, torturing her with memories, making her crave… "What will you do? I'm a 'Mudblood,' remember? The antithesis of everything you stand for. Will you tell your Housemates that you had me first? Malfoy will tear me to shreds, and you know it. But then, I'm sure you'd gain high regard amongst your friends if you did so, wouldn't you?" It was hard not to sound bitter at that last bit.

As if to punish her for such a thought, he lightly bit over her pounding blood point, nudging her shirt collar down with his nose first. "I could care less about that shite. Blood purity is Draco's, Zabini's, and Parkinson's gig - not mine. Besides, you've more than proved that you're twice their worth." He paused, pressing his face into her hair and inhaled again with pleasure. "No, all I want is this right here with you. Nothing else matters."

Mind whirling a mile a minute, she tried to digest what he was saying. "Wait, wait,  _wait._  I don't understand. You've always hated me."

He lifted his head and barked a laugh that was loud enough to make her cringe and worry that someone might have heard it and would come investigating. "I've never hated you, Granger," he contradicted. "I've admired you, and been jealous of that impossibly huge brain of yours and your magical ability. Physically… hell, you were my first wet dream, witch! I've been after your attention for years, but you've been too enamored of the Weasel King to notice." He smoothed her hair over one shoulder, and dropped his cheek to hers. "That I was your first is _bloody unbelievable_  - a fucking dream come true."

The hand that had been caressing her tummy dipped to the space between her thighs, pulling her robes and skirt up so that he could rest the flat of his hand against her knickers. "But see, here's the thing," he whispered in a low, seductive voice, "that one night wasn't enough for me. I want more nights just like it - a lot more." With an agile slip of his fingers, he was under the band and teasing her clit before she could tell him to stop. Her thighs trembled.

"Don't," she begged.

He turned her head with pressure to her jaw so they could look at each other, even as he rolled her small nub of flesh between his index finger and thumb. "You've fucked me up royally, my sweet girl. Every day since Halloween I've woken up with this… hollow feeling… deep in my chest and gut, and my cock would be hard from the dreams I'd have of you." He dipped two fingers down her slit, gathering moisture at her entrance and dragging it up and down through her labia, preparing her for what she knew was going to happen between them. "It's been torture, Granger. I've never wanted anyone this much." He kissed her – just a quick pull of lips. "Did you think about me like that? Was it the same for you?"

She closed her eyes, a hitch in her chest causing her to have to swallow first before replying. "Yes. Every day has hurt. Every day I've ached for you," she admitted, sliding her hand down to join his in its naughty endeavors. Their fingers soon grew sticky together, but the shaking of her heart never ceased and she laid her forehead against his cheek. "I'm scared of this – of wanting you so much."

He rubbed against her like a great cat, skin gliding across skin in an intimate display of affection. "Don't be. It feels right. Nothing else matters but  _this_  and  _us._ " Their fingers entwined, resting against her most sacred place, and their mouths met with passion once more. "Want you," he breathed between kisses. "Here. Right now. Say yes."

"My wand," she required, needing it to cast the Contraceptive Charm.

He reached into the inner pocket of his robes and passed her his instead. "Use mine."

It didn't have the exact same handling as her wand, but she noted how strangely similar the feel of its magic was to her own when she pressed it to her belly and recited the spell to prevent pregnancy. When it was done, he took the wand from her, dropped it to the floor, and ripped her knickers down her legs, desperate to couple. She caught them with one raised foot when they hit her knees, and dragged them down the rest of the way, while he withdrew from touching her to undress. His fingers flew over his belt and pants, and she heard them drop to the floor behind her. Then, he opened her legs and moved between them. Guiding his aching, weeping length to her entrance, he paused. "Tilt forward a bit." When she complied, he thrust.

It felt amazing to be parted by his thick length again. She cried out, but quickly clapped a hand over her mouth remembering that they hadn't thought to cast a Silencing Charm in advance.

"Shh," Theodore murmured in her ear, already gyrating his hips in a pumping rhythm that drew him partially out, only to drive him back in to the hilt on every return surge. "Nice and easy, my sweet girl. Be quiet now."

He shagged her like that, right there in a darkened nook off the main corridor where anyone could happen across them. Thankfully, the seventh floor wasn't as busy as other floors in the castle, with the Gryffindor Tower entrance the only major attraction to this level – and that was far down and around the corner from where they were at the moment.

"That's it. Want this as much as I do, Granger," he coaxed as she widened her stance and angled her hips up higher, needing him to clip her in that one special spot. As soon as the broad head of his penis began rubbing her just right, her inner muscles pulsed around him. "Slytherin's rod, you're perfect," he praised, stroking her arse with one hand while the other gripped her hip and held her steady. He partially stifled a laugh and thrust hard again and again, causing them both to groan at the intense pleasure-pain. "I'm the luckiest bastard alive." He reached around and caressed her clit, bringing his mouth to her ear again. "Say you'll be my girlfriend, Hermione, and to hell with anyone who doesn't like it!"

It was the first time he'd ever used her first name, and that, combined with his provocative rubbing and plunging into her with strength had her coming before she could think straight. Behind her eyelids, little detonations of white and purple lights went off and she bit down on her hand to keep from screaming.

"Fuck," Theodore gasped, pulling her bum hard into his next pounding drive. "So tight! I can't… I'm coming!"

Pressing his face into the bend of her shoulder and neck to muffle his exhalation of pleasure, he exploded. Hot, wet seed gushed into her. His hips continued to pump even as he ejaculated with each forward lunge.

When it was over, he slumped his weight into her back, holding onto her as if he'd never let go. He kept them intimately connected, driven to the hilt by that last shove. His panting breath was hot through her robes and shirt, and it was a surprise for her to realize that they hadn't gotten naked. He hadn't even opened her shirt to see her breasts, much less touch them. The need between them had been too strong to wait for such pleasantries.

She removed the hand from her mouth and tried to use what little strength there was left in her arms to push them off the wall. Nott stopped her by tilting his weight forward and shoving her back. "Don't move yet," he requested. "I like being in you."

At his words, hateful reality popped her bubble of warm comfort. Godric's bones, had she really just had sex with Theodore Nott  _again?_  Was that his softening penis covered in their combined fluids that was just now beginning to ease out of her? Was that really his come dripping down her thigh?

Circe, how odd.

He sighed and withdrew from her body, stepping back. There was a rustling, and then the sound of his trousers being re-zipped and his belt buckle re-fastened. "You regret that," he didn't ask it, but stated it as a fact.

Straightening up, Hermione smoothed her skirt and robes down. The excuse of hunting for her knickers and slipping them back into place gave her much needed time to compose her nerves and consider his statement. Did she regret what they'd done?

When she was ready, she turned to him, noting in the dim light from the corridor beyond how angry and tired he looked. "No, I don't regret it," she confessed.

He seemed surprised by her answer and swung his gaze back to hers, wary. "You don't?"

Looking him up and down, she realized just how tall and handsome Theodore Nott really was. Oh, it wasn't that she hadn't noticed his striking, true blue eyes before, or that his rakishly styled, glossy, chestnut-colored hair, with its long bangs and short cut back and sides hadn't caused her fingers to itch to run through it. She'd paid attention to him, but her preoccupation with a certain ginger-haired git had made it impossible for her to really give serious consideration to another man. Now, however, a whole, new road was laid before her, and she thought it rather exciting and interesting.

It all began here.

"Not a bit," she explained. "It was just a tiny shock to realize that it's  _you_ , and that I liked that we… That is to say, I enjoyed… um…"

"Sex with me?" he offered, a hint of a smile twitching at the corner of his teasing lips.

It was funny that her cheeks chose just that moment to light up like a Christmas tree's topper. Embarrassed that she couldn't appear more mature about it, she dropped her eyes to the floor. "Well, yes."

From the top of her vision, she saw him step closer, and then his arms came around her and he pulled her tight to his chest. The strong scent of that same spicy cologne as he'd worn on Halloween night, as well as clove cigarettes clung to his shirt. "Look at me, Hermione."

She did as asked, noting the good six or seven inches separating their heights.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes."

Theodore went from handsome to gorgeous in a microsecond, as a brilliant smile lit up his face.

"Well, that's good to hear," Harry snarked from the entrance of the alcove, holding the Marauder's Map in one hand, his wand in the other. "Because it would suck to have to beat the ever-loving shite out of you, Nott, for shagging my best friend out in the open like you just did. Next time, try a dorm room." He glanced around Theodore to where Hermione was peeking around him and shrugged in apology. "I worried when you didn't get back to the common room by curfew. Sorry." He pointed at the map with his wand, as if that explained how he'd found her and why he was standing there eavesdropping.

Hermione gave her best friend a flat stare. "Harry?"

He seemed to shrink a little under her glare and the tone she'd used. "Right, I'm going. Later!" He made to step away, but stopped, looking back down at the map for a second, folding a few pieces up. "Oh, and by the way, Filch is..." He triangulated where the old caretaker was. "He's apparently prowling the dungeon corridors at the moment." He looked up at them, and pushed his glasses back on his nose, giving them a knowing grin. "Isn't the Room of Requirement just down the way? Might be a good place to lay low for a while, until he finishes his rounds in a few hours. Just saying."

With that, her best friend was gone.

Theodore chuckled, swung her around in his arms, planted a resounding smooch on her lips, and herded them towards the small niche's exit. "There are times I swear that one should have been in Slytherin." He stooped to pick up her satchel on the way out and pretended it was too heavy to pick up. "Merlin's right tit, Granger! What are you packing in this thing - a bag of Bludgers? And was Potter talking about the  _actual_  Room of Requirement, like the one mentioned in  _Hogwarts, A History_?"

Pleasantly surprised that he'd read her favorite book of all time, Hermione took her new boyfriend's arm and led him towards the opposite end of the hall, towards the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. "Why yes, Theo, he was. Here let me show you."


	5. Epilogue: As You Wish

**EPILOGUE**

_**Saturday night, June 6, 1998** _

 

Hermione lay physically sated and warm in Theo's arms after a passionate lovemaking session, but the odd fluttering in her chest that had been following her around for the last month could no longer be ignored. It had to be addressed, because it was making her quite ill with worry.

Plainly put, she was afraid that this wonderful, amazing relationship that they'd had for the last six months was going to end now that they'd graduated this afternoon and wouldn't see each other in the same manner. No more sitting next to each other in the Great Hall, sharing meals. No more sneaking off between classes for a snog or clandestine shag. No more meeting here, in the Room of Requirement for romantic, all-night sessions that left her breathless and sweaty and glowing with the knowledge that she had never loved –  _could_  never love - anyone as much as she loved Theodore Nott.

And therein lay the problem: millions of words said to each other over the intervening months since their hook-up on Halloween night, and neither of them had spoken the 'L' word to the other.

What if he didn't feel for her the same as she did for him? What if this had all been just one glorious last go, before leaving their school years behind? What if…?

Shutting her eyes, she marshaled her Gryffindor courage and met her terror head-on.

"I love you."

There, she'd said it. It had been scary, but not because it wasn't true, but rather because it left her vulnerable. For the first time in her life, Hermione was truly open.

His answering silence frightened her even more.

"Sorry, I-" was all she managed to get out before she was rolled onto her back and Theo had her legs spread and he was back in her, kissing her with a wholly unrestrained heat. At that point, thinking was an exercise in futility, so she went with the flow.

She loved how he filled her up to that point of near pain, and how he claimed her with every touch and kiss. He made her feel feminine and beautiful and sexy in bed. Out of it, he treated her as an equal and respected intellectual. They played together, held hands and cried on each other's shoulders like best friends. He was her perfect lover and partner.

Wailing and clinging to him as he brought her to a brilliant, devastating orgasm, she rode the bliss as he continued thrusting, his pace incrementally increasing. When he tightened up his lower body and his breathing became sharp she knew to wrap her legs around him and lock her ankles, as it made him come the hardest.

This time, instead of burying his face in her neck and shouting his rapture, Theo lifted his head to look her in the eye. His face was crimson from exertion and shiny with sweat, his expression determined and filled with an animalistic wildness that made her heart catch. He was utterly beautiful.

"About fucking time," he grit between clenched teeth. His mouth hovered over hers, but he never broke their staring contest. "You're so stubborn, woman! I've been waiting months… to hear it… and to tell you…" He arched his back, and his face shifted angles until he seemed almost pained, and she knew he was on the cusp of his own climax. She tightened around him, creating greater friction, wanting him to know so much pleasure. "I love you, my sweet girl. I love you, too!" he gasped, and with a final surge forward, he slammed his lids shut as the exquisite sensation of complete freedom and satisfaction rolled over him. He roared his triumph into the curve of her shoulder.

Feeling him release deep into her body, hearing his words echo in her head, Hermione cried tears of joy and held on until he collapsed against her, exhausted and replete. Weakly, he rolled them to their sides, and drew her into his lightly furred chest.

"About time, 'Mione," he murmured, the need for sleep already causing his voice to drop an octave and slur a bit. "Thank God."

Her mind buzzing a million miles a second, she knew she wouldn't be sleeping any time soon. Instead, she touched him as she knew he liked, soothing him into the world of dreams with soft caresses. When his long-lashes fluttered and his eyelids closed, and his breathing became deep and even, she knew he was out.

As they'd kicked all of the blankets and pillows off of the bed in their earlier romp, she summoned a new blanket with a thought. The Room of Requirement was good to provide. Snuggling them under the covers, she rested her head on his shoulder, listening to his strong heartbeat, and willed the room to darken for sleep.

To her surprise, she heard Theo chuckle. "This is much better on a king-sized bed than on a lumpy, old couch."

"More comfortable certainly," she agreed, covering her yawn with a hand, "but that night was perfectly unforgettable, and we have the sofa to thank for that. In fact, I'm thinking of going to the Headmaster tomorrow and asking him if I can buy that old thing for my new flat in London. What do you think? We could christen it properly?"

He kissed her cheek around another light laugh and tucked her under his chin, settling them down for the night. "You're an odd bird, love, but sure. As you wish."

 

_**~FIN~** _


End file.
